


Sisters, Through It All

by Lyssandra_Med



Series: One-Shot [37]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healing, Other, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssandra_Med/pseuds/Lyssandra_Med
Summary: Andromeda left, and planned on never looking back.But Family won't let her ignore the chasm thrust between them.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Andromeda Black Tonks, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Narcissa Black Malfoy & Andromeda Black Tonks, Narcissa Black Malfoy & Andromeda Black Tonks
Series: One-Shot [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429282
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52





	Sisters, Through It All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoaringJe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoaringJe/gifts).



> Secret Santa gift for the absolutely wonderful SoaringJe!

With a thudding sound that sent her heart into freefall, the door to her room opened. Only just a few moments prior she had locked it tight against any and all entrants. A warded little space that she was using to hide away from Theodore’s mother, and the plethora of well-meaning guests. But here it was, opened on silent hinges after that first loud gush of sound, and here she was following it. She turned swiftly and with hackles raised, ready and intent on telling whoever it was to leave her alone,  _ everything was  _ **_fine,_ ** _ now get out! _

But when she completed her turn and stared wide-eyed, it wasn’t Martha who met her gaze.

Nor was it Jerome; Theodore’s well-meaning, but rather annoying, step-father. It wasn’t even her dear friend Alice, nor Frank.

No, instead she stood there eye to eye with the last person she would have expected to see that afternoon.

Bellatrix.

Her sister, in the flesh.

With a flurry of movement, she was pushing back until she could tense up against the far wall, her wand now in hand as a gossamer shield blossomed into existence in front of her. She shuffled to the side, one hand behind herself, slowly feeling for the change from plastered wall to the glass window. Her choice of exit may have been locked shut but a simple non-verbal spell made short work of that. Though, at least for now, it seemed Bellatrix was content to-

“Andromeda.”

Silken, smooth-

A voice so very much like her own whenever she listened to it be replayed with a spell, or on Ted’s new recorder. And yet, so very different. The odd twinning caught her off guard, stilled her movements and froze her hidden hand for just a moment. Bellatrix sounded harsher. Older. Her tone muted, but still loud. Piercing, but still gentle.

It was the sound of her sister.

Her freeze lasted a moment longer, and that was her undoing.

“Andromeda, Andy just wait. I’m not here to hurt-”

She could feel the snarl paint her face as she butted in, “Like I’d ever believe a word out of your mouth. Now leave, or I’ll bring the whole house down around you. Do you hear me Bellatrix?”

“As if you could ever do that,” Bellatrix shot back at her with a roll of her eyes and a pout.

“Well even if I can’t,” Andromeda narrowed her gaze and worked the latch upon the window until a soft breeze was gently pressing through the thin silk of her gown, “Theodore can. You  _ know _ he can, he’s not just some fucking Mudblood for you to-”

The woman standing before her  _ moved _ \-  _ her sister, her elder  _ \- faster than lightning and far quicker than even the wind. One minute she was only temporary, standing far away, and the next she was close enough that Andromeda could reach out and touch her if she so wished.

If her shield had still not been active and between them.

“Andy please, calm down and  _ listen _ to me. I’m not here to hurt you, or Ted!”

That… made no sense, none at all.  _ Nothing _ about Bellatrix being here made any sense. “Why,” she asked, leaving her incredulity to filter between them. There had been no clash of spellfire from down below her, she had heard no sounds of fighting or arguments. But Bellatrix was standing here. 

Somehow.

“What happened downstairs? How’d you even get up here?”

“Well,” Bellatrix’s lips turned up into her rather charismatic little smirk she loved to wear so much, a combination of their mother’s disdain and Cygnus’s forcefulness. Disarming, and yet false. Bellatrix was a live wire with a hidden edge, one that ran through  _ all _ of her; smiles and smirks included. “I came in through the front door silly, what’d you think I did? Came in the bloody chimney? Lovely group of Muggles, Ted’s family I mean. Though I get the feeling that Martha was rather inebriated for how early it is.”

Again Andromeda felt herself stupefied, confounded even. This made no sense at all. How in the world had Bellatrix gotten near Martha? Merlin above, how in the world was that bat of a woman still alive?!

“Say what you mean, Bellatrix. How did you get in here, no tricks, no lies. What are you doing here?”

Her questions may have been forceful but the sudden look that crossed Bellatrix’s face had her wondering just how upset she really was. Her sister’s dark eyes softened somewhat, the smirk fading and pout truly coming out to play. Oh, how she had always hated that look, the very same that Bellatrix would use whenever she wanted to get her way, and couldn’t achieve her ends with force or harsh words. It was her  _ move, _ for whenever things weren’t going her way.

And Andromeda had always failed to ignore it, no matter how fake she knew it was.

Bellatrix’s words were clipped but soft when she finally replied, “I’ve come because my baby sister is getting herself married, I’d think it quite apparent why I’m here, yes?”

“But you… You disowned me. The  _ family _ disowned me. Cygnus, he…” The hand she had upon the window at her back still, fingernail chipping at a bit of paint that was flaking apart, “He told me that if I ever saw any of you again, it’d be at wandpoint. And that I’d be dead soon after. So no, Bellatrix, I’m not quite sure why you’re here, or what it is you want, but if you’d please just get it over with already, I’d appreciate it. I have others I need to see, and I don’t plan on being late. And if not, well, like I said. I’ll tear this whole room apart and leave you buried in the rubble.”

Something passed through Bellatrix’s eyes as she finished speaking, something rather pitiable, or sad perhaps. Foreign, unusual, so  _ wrong _ that for a second she assumed it was her imagination playing tricks on her. After all, Bellatrix Lyra Black, ashamed? If it was true, how far had the world fallen?

“Look, Andy, I’m not sure what you and Father actually said, I wasn’t  _ there, _ you know that-”

“As if I’d ever believe that. At the least, he would have told you exactly what happened. As soon as you got back-”

The anger beneath her sister’s gaze rose up for just a moment, “He  _ didn’t, _ Andy, I had to go to fucking Alphard to figure out what actually happened. And you’re not bloody disowned, so cut the bull.”

“...What?” Andromeda felt her shoulders drop, lips part, body loose and heart hammering within her chest. All her memories were contesting against the words Bellatrix spoke, each collision painful as she tried to understand the meaning of what her near-twin had said.

“I mean what I just said, Morgana save me, I’d have thought you’d actually try to figure out if you were disowned before running away. I mean yes, Walburga went and blasted you off her tapestry but that hasn’t been used to finalize a disownment or addition since last century. I don’t know what you thought, but Father hasn’t been to Gringotts either. And,” she pointed a finger towards Andromeda’s chest, stopped only by the thin film of her now wavering shield, “Our tapestry hasn’t changed at all. I don’t know what was said, but you’re still a Black as far as I’m concerned.”

“Not after today.”

Stupid words. Why had she even spoken?

Bellatrix’s head cocked off towards the side, thinned eyes drawn into a curious look.

“What?”

“Not after today. I’m marrying Theodore, I’m taking his name. I won’t be a Black come midnight.”

Something akin to sadness, disappointment maybe, passed over Bellatrix’s face at that. It was strange to see. Disconcerting, maybe. Odd.

“Oh…”

A moment of static passed between the two of them as Bellatrix’s voice faded into the room. Her sister, previously all too expressive with each and every emotion that crossed her fancy, seemed to pull back.

Pull  _ away. _

“I thought you’d at least have enough sense to have him take the name.”

“Why would I ever do that?” This was getting to be a harder conversation than she would have thought, regardless of the lack of spellfire. “Look,” Andromeda sighed out, “His parents are both Muggles. They have their own rites, their own customs. And like I said, Father told me I was disowned. Why would I ever want to give Ted a dead name? Why would I give our-”

No-

Go back-

Too late.

Her words may have dammed up, hit against a wall, been completely swallowed up by useless silence, but Bellatrix was neither hard of hearing or a dunce.

“What? Andy, what’re you saying?”

Andromeda shifted uneasily where she stood, the breeze now becoming cold and uncomfortable. No, she was not going there. Absolutely not-

Bellatrix raised up her wand, an action that left Andromeda automatically flinching away in preparation for  _ something _ to happen. Less than a half a second after first moving, she felt bathed in warmth, saw herself covered in a golden light that slowly drew down to coalesce upon her abdomen.

_ Warmth. _

“Well, I guess you’ll be having a Black after all. Good luck getting Gringotts to change the name. I  _ would _ say congratulations, but seeing as I’m still somewhat in shock, I’ll save it for later.”

“What did you do,” Andromeda asked, the hint of suspicion in her voice.

Bellatrix shot her a smirk before setting her wand away and turning to sit atop the large bed against the far wall. When she was seated, comfortable and smug-looking, she patted at the comforter beside her.

“You know what I did,” her eyes softened as she spoke, “We all had to learn that spell from Pomfrey. Now, sit down before I have to drag your ass over here.”

Andromeda hesitated for only a moment, but in that span of a second, she watched as a wince of pain and hurt crossed through Bellatrix’s gaze. Merlin, she’d had no idea her sister would care this much at all. Mind made up she moved, disregarding the very real possibility that this  _ could _ be a trap engineered by her Father.

“Does Ted know?”

Onto the obvious first, then.

“Yes, Theodore knows. We found out three weeks ago, that’s why we’re… Well.”

Bellatrix, who had remained stiff and unyielding until then, shifted slightly until she was pressed up against Andromeda’s shoulder. A warmth passed between them, quiet and still, a moment she hadn’t felt or basked in since their shared time at Hogwarts.

“So then,” Bellatrix crooned, “Tell me all about it.”

\----oooo----oooo----

The next moment she catches sight of her older sister, a year and a half has passed her by, and a lifetime with it.

Space, grown between their chests, grown amid the tangles of their lives.

Their choices.

The War that many feared would consume them all had finally come to pass, finally sparked to life amid the madness of two sides unwilling to compromise on anything. The fighting was rearing its head, becoming an ungainly beast that threatened to swallow up the whole of their little hidden culture, throw all of their society into disarray. Times were rough, made all the rougher with her little bundle of joy now come to join the world.

Her own child, little Nymphadora, their little joy who happily alerted her to Bellatrix’s arrival. Quiet, lulled and blissful, where there had been crying only moments before.

She almost missed the difference, far too thankful when the quiet fell to be suspicious. But when it extended and was then superseded by a lullaby most familiar… Well, she hadn’t run that fast since Quidditch practice in her Fifth Year. Nonsense words, soft sounds, it was noises mostly. The kind of thing a parent would create out of necessity rather than ingenuity, the same creation that her mother had cooed down to Bellatrix, then herself, and Narcissa after. She could remember most of it, the highs and lows mostly, and as it went on she found herself mentally humming it. Spring mornings staring down into a small crib, little Narcissa blinking sleepily at her, a smile on her face.

A golden-haired little demoness lulled into silence and delight by  _ that  _ lullaby.

The strength of her grip around the wand in her hand left a bruise along the second knuckle of her middle finger. Too tight. But she couldn’t be too prepared, too ready. All the papers were awash with tales of the Dark Lord’s most ardent followers. Their exploits were, for all their horror, the sort of thing that sold reams of paper to nervous witches and wizards, in effect making the impact all the more devastating.

The most recent edition had also contained a small spread revealing Bellatrix’s marriage to that great oaf, Rodolphus.

It wasn’t an event that she had known about. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have attended. She couldn’t return the favour Bellatrix had done her, couldn’t be there for her sister. There had been no warning, no reveal of an engagement. There was simply the note and all the baggage that carried along with it. All the fear that she had built up alongside her sister during late-night talks about Bellatrix’s preference for women, preference to remain unmarried.

A preference to be  _ free. _

“Bellatrix.” Her voice wasn’t cold, or at least she hoped it wasn’t, and though she was confused with the arrival, she fought to keep it from breaking her tone. “Bellatrix, stop.”

Her sister looked…  _ different. _ Much more aware, practically drinking the room in through blown out eyes, but at the same instant she appeared broken. Her hair had always been a constant point of pride that was cherished and well maintained during their years at Hogwarts, yet now it lay stringy and slick in clumps that tangled more than curled. Her dress was regal, refined, highlighted by one of those damned corsets that their mother had always loved, but at the same moment, it was clearly old. Worn through.  _ Dirty. _

It was clear that her sister wasn’t taking care of herself, bone-weary even down to her eyes-

“Merlin above.” Her words were a breathless exhale, a rush of sound. A purple tinge, a ring of effervescent light, a clear sign of heavy Dark Magic use. And bloodshot, so much so that the whites were all nearly invisible from a distance. “Bellatrix?”

Bellatrix seemed to rise from whatever sea of calm she had entered, her voice drifting into nothingness as she pulled the covers atop Nymphadora’s sleeping body. It was more intriguing than surprising to watch, her sister soft and gentle where she had been expecting a jittery or nervous mess.

“Hello, Andy.” Bellatrix turned to face her, face slack. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Bellatrix,” she stowed her wand and moved closer towards where she stood beside the small crib. Her sister remained tall, still and quiet as she approached. A moment of hesitation led into her placing a hand upon Bellatrix’s shoulder, a single instant of contact. 

A flinch. 

A body pushing her backwards.

Bellatrix staring back at her with wide eyes and snarl on her throat.

“Bellatrix,” she recoiled the same, no longer so sure about having moved forward to confront her, “What the bloody Hell happened to you?”

The anger beneath those brown eyes, those rings of lilac, faded in the passing of her question.

“Nothing, I shouldn’t have-”

“Shut up and sit down.” Andromeda reached out again, faster than Bellatrix could avoid but gentle all the same. In a second she had her pulled forward and sitting down on the wide couch that lay opposite to Nymphadora’s crib. “Here, sit. You look like death warmed over. When did you last sleep? Or take care of yourself?”

Her sister clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “I’m fine Andy, I’ve just been busy-”

“With what?”

“With…” Wide eyes roved around the expanse of the room, the edges seeming to pulse and sparkle the longer that Andromeda looked. “Just things, Andy. I’ve just been busy is all.”

“Rodolphus, or Voldemort?” Andromeda watched with barely contained anger when her sister flinched back at hearing  _ that _ name pass by her lips, “Which is it?”

“... Both.” Bellatrix’s face turned sour, lips dropped into a frown and hands bunching up the fabric of her skirt.

“Why? He’s using you Bellatrix, they both are. They’re horrible people, you can see that, can’t you?” She paused a second as anguish overcame Bellatrix’s face, her gaze turning back towards the window she had presumably entered from. “You don’t look anything at all like yourself. How many missions has he sent you on? When was the last time you had a day to yourself? A week? More? Does he give you anything at all? Merlin, Bellatrix, why are you doing this?”

The question seemed to spark some light into her sister’s frame, body shivering as she fought for words and answers.

“Because it keeps Rod away. Because I can do whatever I want to when we’re out, when I’m not cooped up in that fucking Manor of his. Because… Because if he fears me, he won’t… He…”

Words failed her and yet still Andromeda knew what she meant.

Silence reigned, more informative than any sound.

\---

Ted found them curled up around one another later that night. His little Nymph was still asleep, thank the Gods, and so was his wife.

_ And _ her sister.

He laid a blanket around them gently and left.

\---

When Andromeda awoke the following morning, Bellatrix was already gone.

Missing.

The window to Nymphadora’s room was slightly ajar, and a single black feather lay upon the hardwood floor. She knew what it meant, both a calling card and farewell, and though she frothed with the injustice of it all, she knew Bellatrix felt she had no other recourse. Nothing simple would fix this divide. One night spent in each other’s company wasn’t enough to pull her from the missions she had sworn to the Dark Lord.

She let the anger pass, and fade back into memory.

The tears she cried when holding that feather, that night and others, were the most bitter of them all.

\----oooo----oooo----

The next time that she saw Bellatrix was the night before Nymphadora’s fifth birthday.

The War that had been raging along the edges of their society had finally upped itself into a proper row. Daily raids, arrests, bombings and random attacks. It seemed no matter how far-flung one could put themselves on the map, they couldn’t escape the madness. Whispers of advances, defeats, moments of hostility. It was here, festering in all their hearts now.

Theodore had been recalled back into an active position within the Auror Corps not two weeks prior, an event marked by the arrival of a golden owl with sombre eyes. Nymphadora had bounced along happily on his knee, even as silence carried the meaning between Theodore and herself. The days to come were supposed to have been joyous, but nothing more than fear or worry permeated their minds after the arrival of that letter.

Until tonight.

Bellatrix, a massive raven outside her window, incessantly pecking against the glass with a maddened frenzy that told Andromeda everything she needed to know.

Or so she had thought.

“Fucking get in here already,” Andromeda hissed out between clenched teeth, lifting the window further when her sister hopped back and forth on the ledge. “I’ve already got a fire running downstairs, just get in here and we’ll talk.”

Whatever emotion seemed to be keeping Bellatrix outside passed, but even knowing she was coming in, even knowing that the flutter of wings and mild caws meant she would shift, Andromeda wasn’t ready for the sight that greeted her. Nymphadora was asleep two rooms over, quietly dreaming in her bed. She slept through the sudden shifting that left Bellatrix thudding onto the carpeted floor, bodyweight just barely nudging the table at her side, and the warmed glass of mead atop it.

Bellatrix moaned and stirred, limbs jittery and useless until Andromeda knelt by her side and pulled her up. Thoughts of dragging her downstairs were forgotten when she realized out light her sister was, so thin that her corset was pulled tight and yet still too loose. She seated her atop the bed, pushed her back until she was propped against the headboard, and joined her in a mirror of their meeting so many years ago.

She cast a soundless charm upon the room, aware that she already planned on remaining quiet but worrying for Nymphadora all the same. Her sister’s face was slack, her eyes nearly burning with lilac and something-

_ Blood. _

“Bellatrix,” her words weren’t harsh but forceful, fingers snapping in front of her face when Bellatrix made no move or sound. “Bellatrix, dear, what happened?”

“He tried…” Bellatrix halted her words, already a whisper that she strained to hear. Something about her look was feeble, hands clenching and unclenching, lip trembling.

Andromeda had suspicions. Had worries.

Best she asked forgiveness later, than ask permission.

She wove diagnostic spells atop her limp sibling, golden threads that spilt out to return information encoded in glyphs and runes. If there was one thing being a Medi-Witch at St. Mungo’s had taught her, it was that waiting to find the danger was far more hazardous than simply moving forward.

“Merlin above…”

Red.

So much  _ red. _ All the golden threads turning orange, then amber, then redder than the liquid she realized was pouring down her hands. So much red she was unsure of how Bellatrix had even managed to reach her here. 

The training she had received under Madam Pomfrey’s watchful eyes, the years of arduous study within the surgical ward of Mungo’s, all those skills and lessons learned. She used them all. Strung them along to their limits.

All of it  _ right fucking now. _

All of it  _ immediate, and necessary. _

All of it  _ to save the woman who had once been a girl. _

All of it  _ to save the girl who had shielded her with smiles and wide arms, the girl who warded off the stinging hexes thrown at them by their excuse for a Father. _

All of it  _ to save the girl who had become a Woman, who had committed some of the most indecent acts imaginable.  _

All of it to save a girl who was her sister, a woman who came back despite the years and animosity from their opposing sides.

\---

In the end, she nearly failed. Fifteen long minutes stretched out to the tune of a lifetime, breath after breath revealing she hadn’t failed yet. A heart that stopped beating twice, shards of glass and healing potions. 

Malnourished. Her body a patchwork of scars, of black and blue in shades she had never imagined.

Exhaustion from over thirty-six hours spent on the run.

_ Bellatrix. _

**_On the run._ **

It sounded like the raving of a madwoman. She knew that whatever had happened was unlikely to be how she was picturing it, but from the sight of her, and the hand pressed tightly against her abdomen… It seemed likely.

Bellatrix woke the next morning in a jumble of useless limbs and scratchy tones, her eyes darting every which way in search of danger. But she awoke.

Alive.

Scared.

But still here.

“What happened,” Bellatrix asked her, voice soft and tone languid.

“You came here, Bellatrix. You’re alright now.”

Pain twisted across her sister’s features, something deep and unintentional. “Rod, he-”

“It’s alright Bellatrix.” Her voice was strong, determined where her sister’s was not, uttered in the same instance that she pulled her into a hug. The motion was reciprocated after a few seconds of silence. All their understanding, all their words, spoken with no sound.

She understood.

\---

In the end, she wasn’t sure who it was that told Albus. It was either Theodore, or maybe Moody, but someone managed to spill the little secret. Not even two days later there were hardened men and women outside her home. Black rings underneath their eyes, mouths all thin lines with no time for smiles, a tremble in their figures as they stood there and stared inwards.

She remained at Bellatrix’s side the whole time, every second, listened to everything that was said between them and threw more than a few out on their arses when a voice was raised in anger. This was no time for anger. No time to push and pull the hurtful bonds around them. They needed information, and Bellatrix needed help.

And her sister would give it, not gladly or with ease, but she would.

Andromeda made sure she did.

\---

The Hearing was over far more quickly than she had predicted. Mercifully quick, really. Barty Crouch Sr., and Minister Bagnold, the two heavy-hitters. They oversaw what might as well have been a show trial, paraded and gone through only for the benefit of the Wizengamot. The evidence had already been gathered in the days and weeks before, all the memories reviewed with increasing scrutiny, all the abuses catalogued and listed. 

_ ‘A Black,’ _ they whispered in their seats,  _ ‘A Terror upon the battlefield, held in place only by the threat of violence, the threat of aggression against her sisters. A woman, beaten and threatened into aid. A travesty,’ _ they declared, signing away Cygnus into a stint at Azkaban, Druella into a mental ward, and Bellatrix into a month-long healing course.

_ ‘A boon.’ _

Sorely lacking intelligence finally delivered. Names of spies and traitors, turncoats and deep-cover operatives. Missions, long-term plans, a litany of evidence towards the desperation of their adversaries.

Exoneration-

_ Freedom. _

\----oooo----oooo----

The next time that she saw her sister it was through large panes of glass that kept her hidden in a white room. The door squeaked gently upon her arrival, curtains against the window fluttering in the breeze that shot through.

She peered down into Bellatrix’s arms, “A metamorph?” 

Her words weren’t a question so much as a statement, nothing accusatory in her tone. It was wonderment, mostly, amazement and delight.

“Yes, the second one since Eighteen Ninety-Six.”

Black hair, long enough to be a shock where it sat atop the babe’s head. Short loops curling dark to pink and back again as the little form wiggled and reached out in every direction. 

"Well, I guess we're just lucky," Andromeda sighed out, her finger now caught in the child’s deceptively fierce little grip. 

Her reply was a smile, a warmth that lit her up.

"I guess so." 

\----oooo----oooo----

They continue to see one another for years, more or less. Her sister slowly becoming a nigh permanent fixture of their guest bedroom.

Her appearance had started out simple enough, a moment of respite with family while she worked to get back on her feet. Shared moments where Andromeda could mete out the advice she had learned with Nymphadora, wisdom given over to help Bellatrix with Delphi.

Quiet moments used to cover up the missing years, the horror that had underpinned it all. Soft conversations amid the library, shared glasses of wine, hours spent watching the children together. Theodore approved the interaction wholeheartedly, his own generosity spilling out to help with Bellatrix’s recovery. His smile grew to be infectious whenever they were all together, his words and animated sounds of delight ringing like soft rain within their soon-to-be shared home. 

He knows family, he says. He knows she needs it.

One month turns into two.

Two months slowly become six.

And then a year, and then more.

Magic makes the renovations easy, the additions quick and painless. A proper Manor slowly creeping up on them. The War rages on until it doesn’t, the Dark Lord’s efforts stymied by moments of surety. The Ministry, the Unspeakables, Bellatrix’s knowledge and secrets. All of Voldemort’s sordid little secrets made public, his past uncovered.

It’s another year before something approaching peace falls upon them all. Tom’s rebellion stamped out, rolled over and left to drown. The public counts it as Victory. She counts it as well, though for different reasons.

A sister once lost, now found, now part of their odd little family.

Another year sloughs past before Narcissa agrees to meet. Her husband was acquitted, avoiding Azkaban only by the narrowest of votes.  _ ‘Imperius,’ _ they declared,  _ ‘See here, these signs? These memories?’ _

She doesn’t care. Not truly, and not in any way other than to be happy that Narcissa is happy.

_ Draco _ is happy.

A small blonde child sitting with the others, playing with Nymphadora, laughing with Delphini. An odd little group, two metamorphs and the boy. Their hair changes colours and he laughs. His hair remains the same, but he is not upset. 

They are family, and that trumps what little he understands of their differences.

Bellatrix looks alive, for the first time since school. She talks more, smiles more as well. Andromeda knows that her sister’s health will never be what it could have been, that she spent too many years out along the fringes. But the lilac is gone from her gaze, the settled chocolate colour so very much like her own now prominently locked into place.

Life settles.

They settle with it.

The years turn.

\----oooo----oooo----

“Bella?” Andromeda pushed inwards past the thin shield that protected the room from disturbance, aware that she might get a mild hex for her actions. “Bella, they’re ready for us downstairs.”

The room was still and quiet. Undisturbed amid the hustle and bustle going on downstairs. 

The decorations had all changed over time, little bits of her sister’s youth coming back home to roost. Less darkness, more bright colours. A bed that was more often filled with love than rage, or regret. Bella still hadn’t settled down, her life alone more suiting to her needs except when she wished a woman in her bed, spaces most often empty otherwise.

But it was quiet.

Peaceful.

Except now, when they had somewhere to be and little time to arrive.

“Bella?”

Andromeda walked slowly towards the balcony that ringed the outside portion of the room. It was small, walled at their hips and easily accessed with a sliding glass door. Bella was standing out there silently, her eyes somewhere far upon the horizon and her head high in the clouds.

“Bella,” she said again, voice gentle as she laid a hand upon her shoulder. Bella’s clothing was light for the summer day, a dress more this century than the last and bereft of corset or laced frills. All those gaudy assemblages were abandoned long ago in an effort to lessen the pain of an angry past.

“How’d you do it, Andy?”

“Do what?”

She tilted her head in befuddlement as she moved to stand shoulder to shoulder. Silence passed between them for a second or two before Bella seemed to realize she had been asked, and herself asked, a question. She turned fluidly until suddenly Andromeda found herself wrapped up in a hug, hair that smelled faintly of cinnamon pressed up against her nose. She returned the affection, physical and real, aware that Bellatrix needed action more than she needed questions or empty words.

Bellatrix mumbled into her neck, “How’d you do everything, I guess.”

“Well,” Andromeda pulled back, reaching for her hand and threading fingers together. “I don’t have a good answer to that. I just went one day at a time.”

It was, in its own way, the truth.

One day, one moment after the other, ever since their Father had first yelled up a storm and booted her off the family estate. One day after the other, moments where she determinedly looked forward and never back. 

Even when things had looked their most dour.

“Now come on.” She said, tugging Bella along behind her and back into the room. “Delphi wants her mother to see her off, best not keep the little witch waiting.”

They left.

Together, not apart.

Sisters through it all.


End file.
